It Never Leaves
by atticusandalice
Summary: Sue and Jean shared a bond that no one could figure out- not even Sue herself. But Jean had always understood things like red strings and bonded souls, no? Mainly post Funeral. Oneshot.


**Thanks to my beta, Hope-Dream-Read.**

**Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox.**

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><p>It was probably always there, but the first time Sue really remembers catching a glimpse of the elusive string, she was about six.<p>

It was one of those rare times when her dad was at home. Doris had just left to go to South America, but since Paul was here, Sue didn't have to stay at her aunt's house, which she was very glad about. It smelt too much like chicken broth there, and she didn't like it.

Sue missed her mom very much. She never wanted her mom to leave, and every time she did, (which was often), Sue would always ask her why she went. Doris would always reply with the same answer- "Sue, honey, I can't explain to you right now; you're a bit too young. But it's to make the world a better place for you. All right, sweetheart? Take good care of Jean."

Her dad walked them home from the train station where they dropped Doris off. As usual, he was blithering on about something Sue didn't understand, and Jean wasn't listening. Sue was still feeling quite dejected, and she leaned her head on Jean's shoulder. A slight tug pulled on Sue's finger, and when she looked down, there it was.

It was bright red, connecting her pinky to her sisters. It wasn't threadbare, like most of her clothes, so Sue was confused, but not unhappy about it. Sue pulled her hand away, and the string grew in length, but it didn't get tighter. Putting her hand closer to Jean's made the thread shrink, but there was no slack.

Sue snorted. It was like magic. But as everyone, (except for Jean), told her, there was no such thing as magic. Magic was for children who couldn't deal to live in the harsh world given to them. Magic was for weaklings. Magic wasn't real.

Sue suddenly got angry at the string. She didn't want to get sucked into something that would make her soft. She tried to pull the string off, and it would move up and down her pinky, but not off of it.

Jean suddenly grabbed her hand, and the string shrank so much that only the parts wrapped around their fingers touched.

Sue's head snapped up, looking up at her sister with bewilderment, and Jean just winked.

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><p>Sue didn't see the string every day, but it would appear every once in a while.<p>

Like when Sue read Jean _Red Riding Hood_.

And when they watched _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_.

When they went to the Rocky Horror Show.

When Sue brushed her chemical-damaged hair, and loved the way it looks.

When Sue won her first cheerleading coach title, and the ones that followed.

When Jean says she prays for Sue.

When Sue married herself.

When Sue was at the nursing home almost constantly during that last week.

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><p>When Sue got the call her sister passed.<p>

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><p>Yes, Sue was surprised then. The string <em>was<em> still there. Sue followed it, and it lead to, as she suspected, her sister getting loaded onto a stretcher. Sue followed that string, followed her sister everywhere they brought her. When the coffin lid was closed, the red thread ran from her finger into the coffin, and then later through the ground as her sister was laid to the ground.

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><p>A month and a half had passed. It was a hot summer day, and the hike up to the gravesite would be hard, but Sue put on her best tracksuit. It wouldn't matter anyways; her sweat glands hand long since dried up.<p>

Sue reached the granite headstone halfway up the hill after the long trek though the cemetery. She quickly went to work, taking the wilting crocuses resting on the grave and replacing them with some fresher lilies. Sitting down, Sue cracked open the yellowed, worn, hardback book and started reading aloud.

"…'As long as I live, I won't go out of the road into the forest, when mother has forbidden me.' The End." With that, Sue closed the book, and unsure of what to do next, she brushed off the top of the tombstone with her hand.

"I hope you don't mind, but at the funeral, I… I mentioned the string," she said, eyes squinched shut. "There was no other way I could describe… what we had. But I mean, I didn't really say anything specific. Didn't want them to think I-I'm a nut case. A nut case," Sue repeated, standing. Pacing back and forth, she continued to speak to herself. "Ha. Sue Sylvester a psycho, certified for the Funny Farm. Ha."

But she ran back to the grave, and slowly sank to her knees. Her hands pulled at her hair.

"Miss you, Jean."

Sue shakily stood up and brushed the dirt off her legs, nose wrinkling at the site of the grime. She turned away, and while going back to her car, she idly played with the string on her pinky that continued to stretch as she walked further and further away from the grave. The twanging motions that started there reverberated through the course of the string, until it sank into the ground and the soil sucked up the tremors.


End file.
